


Engraved

by LiliGrey



Category: Avengers Academy (Video Game), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers Academy - Freeform, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Soulmates, Tony Feels, but with all the MCU baggage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-14 20:24:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11215632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiliGrey/pseuds/LiliGrey
Summary: Tony Stark is his Soulmate.The person that should complete him. One he had waited all his life for, had encouraged him to go through the agony of Project Rebirth, had made him want to fight for a better world. The one person in the world that should love him no matter what.And Tony hated him to his guts. The feeling is entirely mutual.Or is it?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Riiiight. So, I started playing AvAc, and I've always wanted to write a Soulmate fic, aaand I'm feeling like angst. And this happened. 
> 
> This is my first time writing in this fandom so everyone might be a bit OOC, particularly considering I sort of did a cross-over between AvAc and MCU.
> 
> I'm a rather slow writer, but I'll try to post every week (or two :P). Enjoy :)

 

 

Steve doesn't quite know what to make of the 21st century. To be more precise, as he hadn't really gone off campus much, he doesn't quite know what to make of Avengers Academy. Particular considering his last memory of his previous life was crashing a Hydra battleship into the ice. And fighting in a war.

 

He guessed one of the main perks of the future was that they had won said war, thank God.

 

We won.

 

It will take a while for that fact to sink in.

 

Things have changed so much since his time. He had been to Brooklyn, just briefly, when he didn't take Fury's word for the fact that he was suddenly in the future, and didn't quite know what he felt when he glanced at the completely foreign cityscape. He felt like the streets he grew up in was simply erased off the face of this world, or rather, it was his presence in it that was completely erased.

 

Of course, there was the technology. Everyone seemed to expect him to behave as if the little pocket devices would explode on him the minute he pressed a button, but Steve grew up in a war, fighting Hydra, and therefore constantly handled technology before his time. It was just something he had to deal with and get used to, and that's that. But he has to admit they made life so much easier when he can just order his favourite take away after an exerting day of lessons on modern history with the press of a few buttons.

 

Some things hadn't changed.

 

Like people.

 

They may dress differently and seemed to speak in a completely different version of English on occasion, they way people go about their day-to-day lives is still much the same, although he has to admit he's just slightly disappointed people don't drive flying cars to work. Whether it was disasters, wars or living in peace and prosperity, people never changed.

 

Like Soulmates.

 

Everyone, well, nearly everyone, was born with a Name. It was not their own name, but the name of their Soulmate engraved unto their skin, right across their wrist. It was just a very faint wrinkled line on birth, slightly indented as if carved, but slowly grow out to form a Name, your Soulmate's signature, or rather, the name you will come to know them as. And upon skin-to-skin contact with your Soulmate, the Name would burn across your skin like a brand, tracing out the faint strokes with colorful ink, filling out the empty space that had been lying in wait since the day you were born. It sounds like fairytales and it sounds like magic, and even with all the technological advancements over the years, it still baffled scientists.

 

Steve had never met his Soulmate, which doesn't actually say much considering he's still technically in his early twenties, but before he crashed into the ice cold waters, it had been his last, wistful thought. He knew the risks when he joined the program and the war, but it still came as a bone crushing disappointment.

 

Now, he had been given a second chance. To live a life and to meet his Soulmate. Although sometimes, the idea that he had in fact left his Soulmate behind, and will spend the rest of his life alone in the future still haunts him. He kept his Name under a simple blue wristband, but he can trace every single stroke of it in his sleep. It was the Name that kept him to try and keep on trying, to never give up even when he was weak and sickly. He wanted his Soulmate to be proud of him.

 

Despite the fact that people seemed to share every bit of their personal information on the World Wide Web, which Steve will never come to understand, the idea of baring your Name for all to see was still considered more improper than walking on the streets naked. Steve was eternally grateful that that stayed the same.

 

Like the fact Steve still hated a bully.

 

Bully. Singular. As in Tony Stark. As in, Howard Stark's son. That will never be not weird, to think about himself going to the same school as his friend's son.

 

When he had asked Headmaster Fury whether anyone he knew was still alive, he'd been quite excited to know that Howard's son is also attending the Avengers Academy, even though he was saddened to hear that Howard and his wife, God, wife, he thought he'd never see the flighty genius settled, had died in a car crash a few years back.

 

All of that flew out the window to be replaced by anger and complete disappointment when he met Tony Stark. Somehow, their first conversation ended in a screaming match in the Quad, almost coming to blows, for the whole school to see.

 

From then on, Stark seemed to go out of his way to taunt Steve. And take great pleasure in it. Steve wasn't very good at maths, comparatively, but he was positive that 100% of the insulting nicknames thrown his way were from Stark.

 

Most days, he was alright with it, really. He was used to insults thrown his way in his pre-serum days and they don't bother him that much anymore. Most days, he just ignored Stark and his antics, going about his life normally, or as normal as he could, never deliberately avoid the other boy because he refuse to let Stark of all people get to him. He never backed down from bullies.

 

Today was different. Stark had arrived at Dr. Banner's new mediation class half an hour late, completely unapologetic and stinking of alcohol. Greeting the teacher with a disrespectful "Hey Brucie, I'm feelin' bit green today. How 'bout you?" and later waved off everyone's stare with a "Don't mind me. Keep up your anti-green movement."

 

It wasn't even anything unusual for Stark to say but it just completely pissed Steve off when he saw how upset their teacher looked. Stark must have known Dr. Banner was still sensitive about his last incident in the lab. He just mentioned it so deliberately and casually, like it wasn't his fault because he startled the poor guy when he exploded a Bunsen burner by turning it into a rocket. And Steve just had enough.

 

After class, he rounded on Stark. "You should apologise to Dr. Banner."

 

"Or what? You'll tell the teacher?" The other boy just arched an eyebrow at him, looking completely bored.

 

“You may be a genius, Stark, and I’ve met geniuses, but that doesn’t excuse you from such behavior and disrespect.” His mind flashed back to his friend’s flippant determination as he flew into enemy territory, regardless of his personal safety.

 

“Sure, let’s look up to the man who invented the atomic bomb as a fuck you to the world.”

 

"Don’t even start on Howard. You aren't half the man that your father was. You are nothing without the Iron Man armor." He spat out, anger and disappointment building up.

 

"Oh yeah? Who are you to say when everything you are came from a damned bottle, huh?" Stark's eyes turned cold and hard, his words derisive and cutting more than it should.

 

Steve growled and before he realized, he had backed the other boy to the wall, fisting his jacket lapels.

 

"Remove your hands or I'll do it for you." Stark just looked at him with disdain.

 

"I'd like to see you try."

 

"Thought you'd never ask." Stark smirked and struck out with his gauntlet before he was finished with the sentence, but Steve easily dodged, expecting the punch.

 

Fighting, is something he's familiar with.

 

They all received mandatory combat training in the Academy, so Stark can throw a few punches, but Steve had fought in a war, against Hydra agents who aimed to kill. However, Stark made up for his lack of experience with technology.

 

Although he had seen Iron Man fight in practice, he was still taken a little by surprise from the repulsor blast. He dodged quickly, but not fast enough as the blast singed his right forearm. Centimeters away from his Name.

 

And it was this that made Steve loss control. It happened in a blur as his next punch came out much harder than he'd intended and the other boy flew across the hallway to hit the opposite wall, landing in a crumpled heap.

 

Panting heavily, he came to and realized what he'd done. Guilt washed over him. He'd meant to give Stark a good dressing down, not end up in a fist fight and wound a fellow student! He was never able to think rationally around Stark.

 

He rushed over to help the other boy up just as he was staggering to his feet. Stark smacked away Steve's helping hand and turned to face him, gauntlet raised as he leaned back heavily against the wall.

 

"Fuck off. I could do this all day." Stark spat on the ground next to Steve's feet.

 

The familiarity of those words shocked him into stillness, which was why he didn't put up a fight when he was roughly pushed to the side and a dark skinned man, Rhodes, rushed to Stark's side.

 

"God, Tones, you alright? Come on, you are coming to the infirmary." Rhodes spoke in a no nonsense tone, supporting Stark's weight and dragged him in the direction of the infirmary, looking at Steve with a deep frown as he walked past.

 

Steve stood rooted to the ground and watched them disappear round the corner as the crowd around them slowly dispersed.

 

He looked down at his burned arm, the sting only registering now as the adrenaline faded, and his gaze landed on the slightly charred wristband. It had been that close. He felt the skin underneath itch and burn.

 

He knew it's probably only his subconscious, but he just needed to take off the wristband and make sure his Name was alright. He can't do that here, where everyone can see.

 

He pushed past a worried Sam, who had apparently been trying to talk to him for the past minute or so. He felt a slight stab of guilt but he'll apologies later. He needs to get to his dorm. Now.

 

The moment he slammed the door shut and locked it, he peeled his wristband off, checking his Name was still there. And stared.

 

It was still the same messy scrawl, as if the owner was too impatient to write out every letter. It was still in blocky capitals, like shouting out in defiance for the world to hear. It was still every familiar stroke Steve had traced out on sleepless nights, plagued by nightmares from the war and heart aching for everyone he had left behind.

 

TONY

 

It wrote. Like it always did.

 

But this time, instead of the faint tracing with just the slightest indent, it was now filled out in bright vibrant colors.

 

In a swirl of familiar red and gold.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for MCU canon typical violence/torture, and child abuse/neglect. Angst warning. Did I mention there’s angst? Well, there’s A LOT of angst in this chapter. Tony needs a massive hug.

Tony had always known it was Steve. Okay, of course he knew it was Steve, as he had figured out the writing on his wrist when he was four, when it was still nothing but a mess of squiggles on his skin. No, he meant he had known it was Steve as in Steve Rogers Steve.

 

He had figured that out when he was ten. It was only half an accident as he had been in his father's study, wanting to show him the upgraded rocket engine he had just built. His father had been busy, chatting up important boring people in the parlor, so Tony got curious, as he was always wont to do, and looked through the thick stack of files on the large ornate desk that he was never allowed to touch.

 

That's when he saw it. At the corner of the page, near the bottom, was a signature. It was nothing ostentatious or flaunting, as signatures usually go, but rather neat and steady. It was quite plain, really, but Tony was absolutely fascinated. It was plain and it was _his_.

 

It was his Name.

 

"What do you think you are doing, boy?" The angry accusation startled him into dropping the engine on the desk with a clang, and no doubt a dent or two to the wooden surface. Tony winced and ducked his head, staggering a little as he was roughly pushed out of the way. Instead of quietly slinking out like he usually does when he did something to upset his father, he picked up the courage to look up and ask, heart still pounding in his rib cage from his findings, hope in his voice.

 

"Who's Steve Rogers, Father?"

 

His father just looked at him, face a blank mask but a thousand emotions in his eyes. Emotions he never allowed Tony to see before.

 

"A better man than you ever will be." Was his father's answer as he was promptly shooed out of the room, banned from entering it again without his father's explicit permission.

 

Not getting a straight answer out of his father hadn't deterred him at all, as he was a genius, and it only took him three days to find out who, exactly, Steve Rogers was. The results stunned him. He agreed wholeheartedly with his father's assessment then. No, he won't ever be a better man than his Soulmate. His Soulmate who was _Captain America_.

 

He, of course, like the genius he was, told absolutely no one about it. But he did keep funding the expeditions after his parents died, when everyone at SI had voted against it. Too bad. He's Tony Stark and he will do as he like.

 

When they told him they'd found Steve, _his_ Steve, and that he would be attending Avengers Academy, he had been beyond excited. When he had heard Steve call out his name at the Quad, he had been so nervous that he was terrified when he offered his hand to shake, trying to play it cool as he forced a smile onto his face.

 

Then all his illusions shattered when Steve had just gawked at him, completely ignoring his outstretched hand, and the first thing he said was, "Are you really Howard's son?"

 

Howard's son.

 

Is that all he is, all he ever will be in everyone's eyes? In his Soulmate's eyes? He had hoped that there was one thing that will always be his own, not tainted by his father's shadow. His Soulmate. _His._

 

He did what he does best in this kind of situation. He lashed out. Things quickly went downhill from there, ending with Steve almost punching him in the face.

 

It made everything worse when later that evening, Steve had come to apologize. Apologizing for all the wrong things. Apologizing for mentioning his loving father. His loving father who loved him so much that he gave up on his only son when he became a cripple.

 

Yes, a cripple.

 

Tony had lost his right hand in a kidnapping, along with his Name. Although, of course, he knew his father had given up on him long before that.

 

When his kidnappers had pulled that suffocating black hood off his head, shoving his face in front of a camera as they shouted indistinctly in a foreign language, he’d known what they wanted, when he heard the unmistakable name “Jericho”. In that moment he wanted to laugh hysterically, because how could these terrorists be so naive as to think that his life would ever worth as much as the safety of America in his father’s eyes, if it’s even worth anything at all. Between himself and the whole of fucking _America_ , he didn't need to think to know which his father would choose, but it still came as a bone crushing despair when it became clear that no one was coming for him, extinguishing the last of his childish hopes.

 

Despite everything, he had wanted to stay strong, if not for his father, then for his Soulmate. But he wasn’t, strong enough, and he broke when they pushed him into the water again and again. Bomb. They said. And bomb they will get. He was too weak to resist their demands, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew there was only one way this story could end and it was what his father would expect of him. It was probably what Captain America, _his Soulmate_ , would expect of him.

 

He never expected himself to survive the explosion that must have caved the entire terrorist cell.

 

Although things didn’t get much better when he woke up to find that he had to be plugged into the wall to avoid shrapnel shredding his heart and learn to live with one hand. So many people gave up on him then that he was tempted to give up on himself. But he's Tony Stark and he's a genius. He made the arc reactor and designed his own prosthetic hand while he was still struggling with PTSD. And it's not just going to be life support and a prosthetic. No, if he's going to run on a battery and have an artificial hand, he's going to make it into so much more than that.

 

It's where the idea for the Iron Man armour began.

 

He taught himself to be ambidextrous, for practical reasons, of course, and not for the fact that your Name always appear on your dominant hand, or sometimes randomly for ambidextrous people. He was never read fairytales as a child, so he never believed in them.

 

Just when he started to slowly rebuild his world around himself once more, it was again shattered into pieces when his parents died in a car crash and Obi, _how could he_ , was found to be behind it all. That was when Fury offered him the chance to join the Academy and become an Avenger one day. It was the easiest decision in his life to say yes.

 

He survived shrapnel lodged in his heart. He survived losing his dominant hand. He survived the deepest betrayal and losing his fucking parents. He always knew he's a survivor.

 

And if he will never be able to feel that moment when the other half of his soul slotted into its place when his Soulmate touch him? It's just another teeny weeny thing he lost along the way. Hadn't he always known life was shit?

 

It's why he didn't need to double-check to know that Steve is his Soulmate. Because of course he'll have a Soulmate that completely hate his guts. A Soulmate who had such a big heart it'll encompass and forgive anyone but him. Who judged him like everyone else, before he’d even known the guy. Who always looked at him like he's such a disappointment. Like he will never be good enough for someone as perfect as Steve.

 

So he took the fucking hint.

 

Of course he's not Steve's Soulmate in return. How could he be? The conclusion was simple as fact, easy as breathing. But it hurt, it hurt so much deeper than bruised ribs.

 

"I don't have a Name." It was Tony's motto, and it was true. It was a dull ache in his heart, but it was also freedom. Freedom to like, fuck and god forbid, love, whoever he wants. He drank, he partied and he hid behind the playboy facade. He teased, he taunted and he even goaded Steve to punch him, just so it would hurt less to hate Steve back.

 

He really should have known better. It's always been Steve, and always will be.

 


End file.
